#rubyred

[avochele]

The Idol - Ruby Red.

tags. idol!woozi x idol!oc, fluff, angst

headquarter.

chapter 1.

synopsis. In wich a girl has a way too personal connection to a ceiling fan and in wich people need to learn that not everything is what it appears to be.

“People desire me. Because of red. Especially men. I became an object of desire. An object of love. An object that was made through the colour of red. I am red.”

warnings. toxic fans, obsession, anxiety, objectification(?), stalking, blood, obsessive crazy and toxic fans, oc is a simp for woozi (but honestly who isn't?), both are hopelessly in love and too dense to notice, I have no idea how recording a song or being an idol works so please excuse my messy excuse of a song production etc., obsessive fan incidents inspired by tvxq's sasaeng incidents (because no one in their right mind could come up with stuff like that) (more will be added if needed.)

note. Blame my impatience for the irregular updates. sorry.

Red. Everything is red. I don’t like red. Haven’t liked it for 6 years.

I’m sure I did like it at some point. I can’t remember. I should like red. Red is my business in a way. It’s my job. Red made me successful. Popular. Famous.

But I don’t think it makes me happy.

For the longest time I noticed something missing. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment when. But I have been feeling like I’m in a void. A void of nothingness. Except for the red specks everywhere.

There should be more. I should be happy. But I am not.

The fan above my bed buzzes softly as it blows cool air onto my skin. They told me to get an AC. I didn’t. I like the sound of the fan. It calms me. It has been there since I moved in and it has not once failed me. I don’t see a point in getting rid of something that lacks in nothing but age. If it does its work - and that it certainly does - why replace it.

I shouldn’t be having such a personal connection to a ceiling fan.

I open my eyes. The red is gone. The blowing air causes my eyes to tear up momentarily, causing me involuntarily to look in another direction but up.

I see a white furball laying at the end of my bed. Next to me. Not quite out of reach. I could stretch my arm and feel her soft fur. But I don’t. I don’t feel like moving.

I like my job. I like what I do. I am one of the few people on this earth who were able to fulfil their dream. And I would never change this for anything. It’s just the red that bothers me.

I reach for my phone. The case. Red. Like everything else. It was the details that made me become the Idol I am today. The small parts that were red. That were sensual. That were exciting. That were loving.

People desire me. Because of red. Especially men. I became an object of desire. An object of love. An object that was made through the colour of red. I am red.

The sheets under me rustle as I sit up. Marie’s tail moves over the white sheets. The white curtains - that look almost beige because of the setting sun - stop the light from travelling further into the room.

It’s 8pm. I should be heading out soon. I’m working late today. They gave me midday off. I was at the company yesterday until the middle of the night. I came back at around 3 am and today won’t be any different.

I like the late practice hours. The moments when only a few people are in the building. When it’s quiet. Almost so quiet that I miss the buzzing of my fan in my room.

They have an AC in the building. I like my fan.

I get up. My Bag with my stuff stands next to my door, seemingly waiting for me to pick it up. I’m driving to the company alone today. I’ll be meeting my manager there. She told me to be there in time. I’m already running late.

I tap my freshly manicured fingers on the steering wheel. Dark cherry red with golden accents. I like them. They're pretty, if it weren’t for the red. It isn't as bad as other reds. Not as striking as others. But red. Still. I’d love it. If it weren’t red.

The traffic light shines in a neon light inside my car. Painting everything an anxiety inducing colour.

It’s the colour I'm used to the most. The striking red that fills the stage as soon as I’m about to enter. It’s the colour I hate the most.

The red changes colour and the cars start moving again. Out of reflex I look into the rear-view mirror. Nothing suspicious yet. But they could be anywhere. The people that call themselves my fans but do nothing to make it seem like they are.

There were incidents. People had followed me. People found out where I live. People sent me packages. All kinds of packages. I don't like the packages. Not because of the striking red they are always wrapped in but because of the red inside.

I’d be alright as soon as I arrive in the parking garage under the Hybe Building. It’s only six minutes away now.

Another red light. I check the time on my phone. I am late. I had expected it and texted Taeja. She hadn’t responded but she read it. I know she did. She never really answers. She’s not a big texter.

I drive into the garage. The fluorescent light flickers for a moment before it shines on the few cars still there. I drive by Taeja’s car and park right next to the elevator. That way I don’t need to walk that much when I leave again.

A few metres away stands another car. I’ve seen it a lot. It’s always there when I come and it’s always there when I leave again. I don’t know who it belongs to.

The hallway is long and dark. I like these Hallways. No trace of colour. Just pure and grave grey or black. I enter the practice room Taeja said she’ll wait in.

The room is quiet. Taeja stands right next to the mirror that takes on almost one part of the whole wall. She types something on her phone.

The backup dancers are sitting all over the room on the floor. I have known some of them since the beginning. Many of them have changed agencies since my debut. Just a handful stayed.

I consider them my friends. Even though we never really met outside the company. I’m happy they stayed. At least that hasn’t changed.

Even though the way they view me might have changed. But that’s for my old me to worry about. Everyone changes. And so do I.

“I thought you’d be even later.” She says as she puts her phone on the small stand next to her. “Traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought.” I say, putting my bag next to the door.

“Have you eaten anything?” She always asks that. I don’t blame her. “Yeah. I had TakeOut earlier.” I answer her.

She nods satisfied and claps her hands. “Then shall we start?”

The room is dark. The only light in the room comes from my computer and the sunset lamp in the corner. My friend got it for my birthday.

He’s been in my studio more times than I can count and he’s always been complaining about it not being cozy enough.

Next to the lamp hangs a printed picture that takes over a good fourth of the wall. It’s me on stage at Coachella. I like the picture. Even though the lightsticks make me look like I'm standing on a red ocean.

I’m not surprised they gave me the red one.

I tried making my studio not so red. I think that’s why Seungkwan gave me the sunset lamp. It’s not red. It’s more like a golden orange but still fits my vibe I suppose.

I like it. The plant under the picture lets its leaves hang a little. I don’t know what to do about it. I tried everything. Even talked to it. My best friend said that might help. It didn’t.

I’ve been sitting in front of my computer for a good forty minutes now. Staring at the small symbols.

I don’t know how this works. I should get Beomju to check it over.

I close the file.

I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. It’s coloured in orange light. The water bottle rustles slightly as I pick it up from my desk.

My phone says 2am. I lean forward and send the file to Beomju. The track is almost finished, just needs to be filed to perfection. This is for Beomju to worry about. He knows what the company likes. I don’t feel like putting up with that now. I text him that I’ve sent it to him. Close my phone and get up.

My dark red zip up sweater lays carelessly on my couch together with my bag. The rhinestones on it shine mindlessly in the orange light. I grab it and turn off the light.

The way back to the garage is quiet. I lean against the elevator wall and close my eyes for a moment. The slight rumble of the elevator keeps me from banging my head against the wall. I pull my black cap down a little.

The door opens and white fluorescent light flickers as I step out into the cold parking lot. The garage is almost empty now. Besides my own car there is only the one that's always there.

My steps are the only thing being heard in the empty garage. I open the passenger door and throw my bag onto the seat.

As I walk around it to get to the drivers side the elevator door pings open again. I look up not having expected another person to come down this late.

A guy around my height leaves the elevator. He’s wearing a cap that hides his dark, seemingly long hair, a black shirt that looks a little too big on him but at the same time too tight to conceal anything around his shoulder and chest area and black sweatpants.

He holds a grey sweatshirt in his hand together with his phone. The other one reaches to unlock his car. It’s the car in front.

My hand still lays on the door handle when he looks up. He looks at me and my heart jumps a little.

Red. Everything seems red all of a sudden. I don’t know what happend. But when he looked at me my chest turned warm. The heat creeping up my neck.

I stared. I stared goddamn much. And he noticed.

He smiles at me and bows slightly. Still with my hand on the door handle I lower my head a little. An attempt at a relaxed bow.

I’ve seen him before. Multiple times. Many times actually. Why does it feel so different now? Because I’m not on stage? Pumped with adrenaline? Because he’s not with Seungkwan? Or Minghao? Joshua? Or anyone I know?

What is happening?

I’m still staring. I turn to my car and open the door before scrambling to put my sweater on.

My face is still burning red. And I hope for everything that he doesn’t notice.

I bow one last time without looking at him and hurry to get into the driver's seat. I’m not sure if I trust myself enough to immediately leave. So I scramble to make it look like I’m busily doing something on my phone.

I connect the speakers to my phone. I type in the navigation. I type a message but am really just trying to get him to leave first.

His car lights blind me for a second and then he goes driving right by me. I see his backlight. And then he’s gone.

Everything's still red. A deep shade of red. I lean back and knot my hand through my hair.

Close my eyes. Open them again. Still red.

Damn you Woozi for making me see red.

TAGLIST. @readerwonnie @thepoopdokyeomtouched @berriebeetles @rvebyntvr

This work will be simutaneously posted on my Wattpad [click here.]

©AVOCHELE, 2024

All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a story review.

[rosaniruby]

they're celebrating pride month

[beanghostprincess]

Kana and Ruby's relationship deteriorating in the manga is slowly shattering my lesbian heart into pieces

[mynameiskanade]

people who ship aquakana and rubykana, ily

[applausetheillusionists]

Rereading Rubinrot being 3 years older, I realized how similar I am to Gwen. I can relate to her problems so much better as a teenager than as a pre-teen.

[ineecho]

Who made everything?

Just finished a reread of the Edelstein Triolgie and something that was bothering was that I don’t know who actually like made the Chronograph? 

I’m not sure if I accidently skipped over the explaination but who actually wrote the prophecies and made the chronograph. We know the Graf made the organization but its not like he could see the future so how did he come up with all the propecies that happen? I get the whole Newton calculating their birthdays thing, sure whatever, but the rest?? 

I thought maybe there was someone like Tante Maddy in the past and he used them but idk. Also my only guess for the Chronograph is that either he went into the past and had all his smart friends to build it or like after he made the Organization build it. 

He did also talk to that one girl he impregnated all about everything he knew which included the whole “Stein der Weisen” meaning he had the Prophecies as a younger man? 

If anyone knows please help!

[anika-kanroji16]

https://youtu.be/cxmSkV4YNGo?si=g2OZm5vuAo3LwEPD

[szanne7000]

🛍️🎀🛍️ Present Detector Activated! 🛍️🎀🛍️

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Seventh Picture - TS4 Guest Creator Ruby Red's Farm Life Ceramic Jars

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Collect this new 23 K gold Thewa handcrafted pendent long neck chain studded with ruby stones double pendent n earrings , perfect accessory for upcoming garba festival occasion for her trousseau!

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In Focus :

Material Used - 23 k Gold , Glass , 925 Silver Gold Plated , Red Ruby !

Man Hours/ Time Taken -160 hours

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[avochele]

The Idol - Ruby Red.

tags. idol!woozi x idol!oc, fluff, angst

synopsis. In wich a girl has a way too personal connection with a ceiling fan and in wich people need to learn that not everything is what it appears to be.

Joo Byeol. Famous Idol and way too lost in that thing she calls life. The difference lays in the details people say. Everything that Joo Byeol does is based on details. Details have made her become who she is. The obsession with a certain colour has long turned into something deeper. More sensual. More exciting and more dangerous.

A series of (un)fortunate events leads to a three sixty turn and makes Joo Byeol face things she never would have thought to encounter. To feel. To be.

“People desire me. Because of red. Especially men. I became an object of desire. An object of love. An object that was made through the colour of red. I am red.”

warnings. toxic fans, obsession, anxiety, objectification(?), stalking, blood, obsessive crazy and toxic fans, oc is a simp for woozi (but honestly who isn't?), both are hopelessly in love and too dense to notice, I have no idea how recording a song or being an idol works so please excuse my messy excuse of a song production etc., obsessive fan incidents inspired by tvxq's sasaeng incidents (because no one in their right mind could come up with stuff like that) (more will be added if needed.)

note. blame my impatience for the irregular updates. I just couldn't wait to post the first chapter. if you want to get a notice of any updates regarding this story, you can follow or be added to the taglist (leave a comment for the taglist please). i never had a taglist but i'll figure it out, so just tell me if you want to be added. i really hope you guys will like it and i hope you'll stick around until then. thank you so much to all of your support that i've received until now! big hug, chele ♡

-chapters-

chp. 1 [click here.]

chp. 2 [coming soon.]

chp. 3 [coming soon.]

chp. 4 [coming soon.]

chp. 5 [coming soon.]

chp. 6 [coming soon.]

chp. 7 [coming soon.]

chp. 8 [coming soon.]

chp. 9 [coming soon.]

chp. 10 [coming soon.]

- to be continued.

THE IDOL - RUBYRED

caution: irregular updates!

This work will be simultaneously posted on my Wattpad [click here.]

©AVOCHELE, 2024

All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a story review.

[rosaniruby]

ITS A PRIDE MONTH ITS A RUBY MONTH🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[mymmri3s]

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Cuttings from our mother plants in Kenya are arriving in increasing quantities every week and are being turned into young plants in a wide range of varieties according to customer requirements.

https://pac-elsner.com Tel +49 35248 3991-0

[ministry-of-gemstones]

A true story that just happened just now (29th March 2023, Wednesday 2pm) I got approached by an uncle on whatsapp as he wanted to sell his Ruby. It was a nice piece with beautiful colour (as seen on the picture) But always I air it with caution and have it check Nanyang Gemological Institute (NGI). I met up with the uncle at the Nanyang Gem Lab to have it checked and while checking, the uncle was a genuine man who told he purchased this ruby when he was working in the shipping industry from sailors. But sadly, the results turned out that it was synthetic! So, I told the uncle the results and I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I thanked him for coming and explained to him that at least today he has learnt something:) I sincerely hope everyone learns as well from this story. Always have it check at a ‘reliable’ Gemological Lab to verify a gemstone 🌈 . . . . . #love ❤︎ #ruby ❤︎ #scrim ❤︎ #cpsoap ❤︎ #follow ❤︎ #rubies ❤︎ #sphere ❤︎ #towers ❤︎ #fashion ❤︎ #redruby ❤︎ #rubyred ❤︎ #rubywoo ❤︎ #sirloin ❤︎ #beautiful ❤︎ #etsymaker ❤︎ #instagood ❤︎ #singapore ❤︎ #tanzanite ❤︎ #aquamarine ❤︎ #soapdesign ❤︎ #tourmaline ❤︎ #instafashion ❤︎ #sapphirering ❤︎ #wirewrappedjewelry ❤︎ #wirewrappedcrystals ❤︎ #watermelontourmaline ❤︎ (at Far East Plaza) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqXP5BTur2J/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=